


glock 21

by nothingbutregret



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Femdom, Gun Kink, Object Insertion, Rape as Revenge, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24514861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingbutregret/pseuds/nothingbutregret
Summary: Vincent is careful.Until he isn't.
Relationships: Male Spy/Teenage Girl his now-deceased Rival Was Grooming as a Living Weapon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35
Collections: Original Characters & Original Works Flash Exchange May 2020





	glock 21

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StormyDaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyDaze/gifts).



> you had so many good things to pick from... good taste...

Vincent was a careful man, by all accounts. 

He had to be, or he'd be dead. 

He'd been in the business for a while, which was just a testament to just how careful he was. Most people beg for retirement after ten years, after twenty, but he's been doing this since he was sixteen. He's nearly forty now. He'd have medals if they gave them out. One for his latest job At Least. 

God, McMillon was bastard. The sort of spy that only took jobs he knew would be messy. They met once, at a theater because they had to keep up pretenses of course. Big man barely fit into his suit. Year after that they ended up working for different companies but there was never a reality where they could have been friends. Not when McMillion tried to kill him five separate times. But why ruminate. Vincent took care of the problem. 

And now, after an evening of celebrating with the boss, he came home already drunk and fell straight into bed. 

Which is roughly around the time that something hit his head. 

He wakes up slowly- enough time has passed that the dark knight sky has turned into that sort of five in the morning blue. He's still in his bed, though strapped down and naked. His head is pounding- he's probably concussed- and his vision swims a little. 

And that's when he notices her. 

She's sitting on the edge of the bed, between his spread legs, hair pulled back into a tightly coiled braid. She's in a mask, he can see the strap of it, but she's faced away, holding a gun. 

Ah. 

“Hey-” There's really no deescalating when he's already strapped down but he'd hate himself if he didn't try. “Why?” 

“Why?” She sounds young- maybe early twenties? Maybe earlier. “You mean the-” She turns, waves with the gun. The mask looks like a dollar store cat you get for children's parties. “All of this?” 

“Mmhm. Yeah.” 

“You killed my teacher. So, you know.” She shrugs. “Revenge, or whatever.” 

“Re-” His head drops back. “McMillon.” Fucking piece of shit. 

“Yeah. Dennis.” The thing keeping him flat on the mattress is strap of vinyl, flat over his chest. His legs are spread by ropes, his arms are zip tied- Christ- 

“Why am I naked?” 

“I could kill you instead, if you want.” Her sweater has a logo on it, college or high school team, he can't tell. “I'm throwing you off your rhythm. Is it working?” 

“Are you-” He swallows. His throat is dry. “Asking for feedback?” 

“I mean.” Another shrug. “You did kill the dude who taught me how to do this. I need to get my positive reinforcement somewhere.” 

Yeah, it's throwing him off of his rhythm alright. 

“How long have you-” 

“He's been, I don't know, training me, I guess, since I was twelve. To take over. He's my dad's friend. Was my dad's friend. So like six years now? It's not like pervy or anything. Just the whole teenage dream thing is, um. Unsuspected? Listen.” She gets on the bed, on her knees. “Who gives a shit right?”

“You've killed peo-” 

“Yeah, dude. Obviously. Spy, assassin, it's like the same thing with different results or whatever. Vince right? Vinnie?”

“Vincent.” 

“Vincent. Yeah you get it. I mean you had to have, or you wouldn't have murked my teacher.” 

There's nothing to say to that really. She tilts her head like she's wait- oh, no. She's cracking her neck. Then her knuckles. 

“What are you going to-” He swallows again, on nothing. “What are you going to do to me.”

“I mean, he definitely would have wanted me to kill you. But he always said the rivalry kept him on his toes. Maybe it kept you on your toes and that's why you got so sloppy. I mean, I followed you all the way home from the bar and you didn't even blink. It's fucking shameful, man.” She moves forward, until she's straddling his waist. The black skinny jeans rub against his skin. “I figure it's just something to have, someone to you know. Pall around with.” 

And then she holds the gun up, and drops the clip so that he can see the thing is fully loaded, before slotting it back in and pressing the barrel to his lips. 

“Thought you said- you weren't going to shoot-” 

“Don't believe I ever said that.” The metal is cold. “Lick it for me, will you?” 

Ah. 

So it's like that. 

His mouth is cry but he sticks his tongue out anyway, and laps at the metal. 

“Dude, come on, put some fucking gusto into it. I have class in three hours.” She presses the barrel even harder against his lips- almost clacking against his teeth, so he opens his mouth and licks the gun. “Yeah. That's it. You're doing great.” His turn for positive reinforcement huh? “Good boy.” 

It's hard not to screw his face up at the remark. He's literally twice her age- it's humiliating. She's right, he was sloppy. There's nothing careful about it. 

“Get it as wet as you can. Do yourself the favor sweetheart.” He licks at the gun, lets her push it into his mouth until he's practically gagging on it and when she pulls it away, a string of his slobber drips onto his chin. “That'll do, I guess.” She twists it around looking at the gleaming metal. “You know where this is going right?” 

Unfortunately.

She scoots back off of him, and presses the wet metal against his hole unceremoniously. 

He grits his teeth and she tilts her head again. 

“Counterproductive isn't it? Tensing up like that?” 

“Just get it over with.” 

“Aw. Are you scared?” 

“I'm not.” He insists. He's a grown man, why is he defending himself to some crazy kid-

“You sound like you are. What, never been pegged before?” 

“Get it. Over with.” 

“Ha.” She prods at him again, his spit growing cold in the room air. “Maybe next time.” 

And then she shoves the gun into him. 

It feels like he's on fire, like a sharp stabbing pain shoots up his entire back and he can't help the tears. It's a total shock to the system, and all he can do is thrash around uselessly, held down by the vinyl. 

“Should I leave you like this?” She pushes the gun in further and he can't help the howl that comes out of him. “See if you can make it out, make it a challenge?” He shakes his head desperately, vision swimming with the tears. She laughs a little, and pats his hip. “There there.” 

“Fuck you-” He hisses. All he can do is try and strike at her with his knee but if he moves at all it'll jostle the gun- “Fuck you and fuck McMillon and fuck-” 

“Yeah, yeah. For sure.” She pulls out her phone and he shuts his eyes when he hears the shudder go off. “I could be skinning you alive right now. You gotta learn to be grateful for the mercy of strangers dude.” 

More pictures, he can hear the clicking, before she pulls the gun out and for a second he thinks it's done, it's over, before she shoves it back inside of him. The thrashing isn't by choice- he tears into his wrists and his ankles trying to get away from the pain. 

“Here.” He freezes as soon as her hand is on his dick. “Aren't I nice.” 

“Don't-” He chokes, but she starts jerking him off and thrusting the gun into him in tandem- “Don't-” Is it begging- is he begging- 

“Shh.” Like he's the child here, like he's being unreasonable. “Relax, good boy. Just let go.” 

He doesn't get hard no matter how long she plays with his cock- the pain is just exhausting, almost nauseating, and he's still crying, whimpering even, begging her to just leave him alone. He's covered in a cold sweat and he can't stop shaking. 

“Actions have consequences, you know?” She lets go of his dick, lets it drop like it's a toy she's bored of. “I'd say next time don't kill people, but then where would I be, you know?” She finally pulls the gun out and settles it on the bed next to him, blood staining the sheets. “Let me get just one more-” He twists away when the phone comes out again. “Aren't you cute.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“I know, you've said. I'd love to stay and play, but AP History.” 

“You're a fucking nightmare.” 

“Aw.” She gets up, finally away from him, before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Dennis used to call me that too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> comments always appreciated


End file.
